


give me shapes and letters

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, eloise the matchmaker, tinder au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: Eloise steals Penelope’s phone frequently, so when she grabs it, unlocks it, and begins swiping, Penelope is more concerned with the pasta dish the waitress places in front of her than what Eloise is doing.Until -“How come you don’t have Tinder?”Penelope matches with Colin on Tinder.
Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 112
Kudos: 579





	1. tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Penelope joins tinder. Colin swipes right."
> 
> The second part has been written and will be posted in the next couple of days!

Penelope Featherington places her phone facedown on the table.

Eloise steals Penelope’s phone frequently, so when she grabs it, unlocks it, and begins swiping, Penelope is more concerned with the pasta dish the waitress places in front of her than what Eloise is doing.

Until -

“How come you don’t have Tinder?”

Penelope rolls her eyes, carefully covering her lap with the napkin. If she had gotten to choose, they would be in a place less fancy for lunch. “Because dating apps are terrible.” Stealing Eloise’s extra lime, she seasons her plate. “Besides, men are dumb and only care about looks and we all know my best asset is my brain.”

Eloise looks up and narrows her eyes. “You are beautiful and any man who doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

“I know,” says Penelope, grinning, as she forks some pasta. “And that’s why I don’t need a dating app.” Eloise makes a noise - something between disagreement and assent - and Penelope chooses to ignore her best friend in favor of her lunch.

She’s _ravenous._

Eloise, meanwhile, has not touched her sandwich. Penelope raises an eyebrow. “Are you not hungry?” When Eloise absently takes a bite, the sandwich hanging out of her mouth as she quickly types away at _Penelope’s_ phone, Penelope frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Setting up your profile.”

“On _Tinder_?” Eloise doesn’t answer and Penelope reaches forward to grab her phone, but Eloise is quicker, moving it out of the way. “Eloise Bridgerton, give back my phone.”

Eloise rolls her eyes, but turns the phone so she can see it. She’s cropping a picture of the two of them at the beach, Penelope in a bright pink bikini. “You know the full name thing doesn’t work for me. Besides, look how hot you look in this.”

Penelope tilts her head to the side. “I do look good.” The frown returns. “But that doesn’t mean - ”

“Just let me set it up for you. You don’t have to use it!” Eloise turns her eyes into tiny puddles, pouting, and Penelope sighs - loudly. Eloise’s face quickly switches to glee. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Penelope shakes her head. “I’m changing my passcode.”

“No you won’t.”

And Penelope eats her lunch with a sigh, because she knows Eloise is right: she won’t.

* * *

Penelope does not remember her Tinder account until several weeks later on a Saturday evening. Curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand, she’s only half paying attention to the people arguing on the television screen. 

It’s only when Eloise lets out an audible _squeal_ that her full attention turns to her best friend. “What?” says Penelope, frowning. “Why do you have my phone? Again?”

“Oh my god,” says Eloise, practically vibrating. Her disbelieving, yet mischievous, grin makes Penelope nervous. “You won’t believe this.”

“Oh no.”

“So I’m swiping through your Tinder, obviously, because you won’t. And guess who pops up?” Penelope does not bother to answer because Eloise just continues, bouncing in her seat. “COLIN! My brother! My idiot brother is on _Tinder_ and you _matched_ with him!”

The nervousness builds, tasting something close to embarrassment. “What do you mean I _matched_ with him?” Penelope sits up straight, reaching out for her phone. “You _didn’t_ \- ”

Eloise rolls her eyes. “It’s _Colin_ , of course I swiped right.”

“Eloise!”

“Oh don’t bother,” says Eloise, her eyes never leaving the phone as she taps and swipes away. “I know you’ve had a crush on him for ages - I’m just surprised he was brave enough to do something about it.”

“He hasn’t _done_ anything! He just swiped right on a dating app - that means _nothing_ , Eloise.” Penelope reaches over and snatches her phone. Staring at her is an empty message window, the name _Colin Bridgerton_ at the top staring back. In the corner is his profile picture - and if Penelope didn’t already suspect she was slightly dehydrated from the wine, she would blame the sight of Colin with messy hair and shirtless as the reason for her dry throat.

But then those three imposing dots appear on the screen and Penelope squeaks. “He’s typing! What the hell, Eloise!”

Eloise, of course, just laughs. “It’s not like you haven’t _talked_ to him before, Pen.” She turns back to the tv, propping up her feet on the coffee table after picking up her own glass of wine. “Now, either be quiet so I can watch Stacy backstab Veronica or go to your room while you pretend you're not debating sexting my brother.”

“Isn’t it not very feminist of us to find enjoyment in women fighting each other?”

“Oh absolutely not,” says Eloise, sipping her wine. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t entertaining.”

Penelope turns back to her phone, watching her screen not change at all. And while Eloise is clearly delusional - _sexting_ , Colin? She can barely _sext_ as it is, at least not a real, actual person and not fictional ones in her never-going-to-be-published books - there may be merit in locking herself in her room. Perhaps the illusion of privacy will make her - well, braver. 

Or at least more logical.

Because Colin matching with her on Tinder makes _no_ sense, at all.

And when a message actually _appears on the screen_ \- “Oh my god, Eloise.” Penelope can’t look away from her phone, from the white text and blue message and - “he actually messaged me.”

Eloise’s voice sounds muffled. “Of course he did.” Perhaps Eloise looks at her sideways. “You should reply.”

Wordlessly, Penelope stands and drags herself to her room, biting her lip and rereading the message until it’s burned into her brain.

> **Colin:** so i haven’t seen that pic of you at the beach before. when was that?

Penelope shuts her door and sinks onto her bed. After a moment, she decides to play it safe. It’s Colin, but it’s _Colin,_ so she’ll just be friendly. 

> **Penelope:** last summer when benedict and sophie came to visit. got terrible sunburn. 
> 
> **Penelope:** el set up my profile so she picked it
> 
> **Penelope:** el also swiped right on you btw
> 
> **Colin:** you look beautiful
> 
> **Colin:** oh 
> 
> **Penelope:** she’s quite annoying as you know
> 
> **Colin:** why’d eloise set up a profile for you?
> 
> **Penelope:** just a joke obviously haha
> 
> **Penelope:** anyway yeah good night!

Penelope quickly quits out of the app. Chewing on her lip, she debates whether to delete it all together when another notification comes in - this time from her messages app.

> **Colin:** wait
> 
> **Colin:** can i call you?
> 
> **Colin:** because matching with you…
> 
> **Colin:** it’s not a joke to me
> 
> **Colin:** you’re beautiful and i’ve always loved talking to you 
> 
> **Colin:** you’ve always been brilliant, pen
> 
> **Colin:** and why are you on Tinder anyway?
> 
> **Colin:** look pen i don’t wanna do this over text
> 
> **Colin:** please call me?

And then her phone starts ringing. Colin’s name and face fill the screen and in a panic, Penelope throws the phone across her bed with a tiny squeak. Her mind whirls: this is too much, it doesn’t feel right, this is all a _joke_ , it _can’t be real._

Penelope shakes her head. When her phone begins vibrating again, she rejects the call and turns on _do not disturb_ mode, tucking her phone in her nightstand, out of sight. As she gets ready for bed, brushing her teeth and braiding her hair and washing her face, her thoughts remain on that tiny device and Colin’s words and how it made her _feel_ \- and whether he actually meant any of it at all.

In the end, as Penelope crawls into bed, she decides that Colin has lost his mind. It’s late on a Saturday night, so maybe he’s drunk or exhausted, not thinking clearly, and in the morning he’ll realize how silly all of this is.

Colin Bridgerton isn’t into her.

And that’s fine. 

Any evidence otherwise is all in her head and she just needs to sleep the whole night off.

So Penelope stares at the ceiling, wishing for sleep to save her. Colin’s texts are tattoos behind her eyelids, flickering until her blinks grow heavier. 

And all Penelope can think is - _I’m going to kill Eloise_.

And - 

_You’ve always been brilliant, Pen._


	2. together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for lovely comments left on the previous chapter - i really appreciate every single one! i hope this chapter lives up to y'alls expectations.

Colin Bridgerton pockets his phone and continues pacing.

He’s going to kill his sister. He’s not sure _why_ , but this feels like her fault.

After no response and barely sleeping, Colin had immediately headed over to Penelope and Eloise’s apartment. His joggers are untied and his t-shirt has a stain on it, but when he left that morning it seemed - well, Colin needed to be there, _fast_.

Colin’s waited too long. No time to waste.

So now he paces in front of the apartment door, hair mussed from his hands running through it, his flip-flops loud in the otherwise silent corridor. It’s early, but he knows Penelope - he’s known Penelope, for so long, how could he be so _stupid -_ and she’ll be awake. 

Penelope rose with the sun. He’d always admired that about her.

He admires _her._

Which is why, after a deep breath, Colin reaffirms his determination and knocks.

No one answers for a while, although he thinks he hears muffled movement and muttering. And then, finally - 

The door swings open and Penelope looks - not different, because she’s still Penelope, but if tries to reconcile the woman before him with the girl he grew up with, it’s a stark contrast. So instead, he dismisses a before and after comparison for what’s right in front of him - a glow, building slowly, shining brighter and brighter as an ember turns to flame. 

His heart beats louder in his chest.

Penelope frowns. “What are you doing here?”

Colin squeezes past her - and if he happens a whiff of her floral shampoo in combination with the strong smell of _deliciousness_ wafting from the kitchen, well, who could blame him - and heads straight for the kitchen. “You didn’t respond to my messages.” He picks up a tangerine from the counter, points it at her, says, “that’s rude,” before tossing it back and forth between his hands. “What’re you making?”

Penelope rolls her eyes and locks the door. “Breakfast burritos. And yes,” she answers his unasked question, “I will feed you. But you have to stop being annoying.”

“How am I annoying you?” he asks, carefully peeling his tangerine, doing his best to complete the perfect spiral.

“Pretending to be into me, or whatever, when we both know it’s all a joke.” Penelope doesn’t look at him as she passes into the kitchen, returning to attend to the stove. Frowning, Colin pauses his peeling efforts and instead focuses on the back of her head. “It’s annoying.”

“I _am_ into you, Penelope Featherington.” She glances at him for a moment, but he catches her eye roll. A moment of shock - she doesn’t _believe_ him - before the determination from earlier doubles. This _woman._ “Pen, look at me.”

“Do you want me to burn breakfast?”

He grumbles under his breath, dropping his single peel onto the counter and quickly tossing pieces of tangerine in his mouth. Of course, she knows the only thing that will keep him quiet is _food_ , but he’s not going to squander this moment. So Colin studies her: her straight back, tense shoulders, chin held high.

She’s stiff, not relaxed, and Colin knows she’s holding back.

_She doesn’t believe him._

“What are you doing tonight?” Colin tosses the peel in the trash and purposefully moves closer to where she stands by the stove. Giving her space, but not too much, because this is Operation: _Woo Penelope_ and he’s not about to fail. 

“Hanging out with Eloise,” answers Penelope without hesitation. “And no, I will not cancel.”

“I didn't ask you too.” Even if the thought _did_ cross his mind. He turns to the sink to wash his hands, pausing to let Penelope adjust to his answer. He dries his hands on the towel hanging on the oven, just beside where she’s stirring something - that looks already done, in Colin’s opinion. Then he asks, “When’s the next time you’re free?”

Penelope chews her bottom lip and Colin fights down the urge to free it with his teeth. If his mind starts down _that_ path - the same one that left him restless and unsatisfied last night, with only his hand and the visions of Penelope in his - admittedly - imaginative brain…

Colin clears his throat and focuses on Penelope’s eyes. Not her lips, even as they move, or her chest, as she inhales deeply. “Is there someone else? Is that why you were on Tinder - you met someone?” He hesitates for a moment. “Did - you said El was the one who matched with me. Are you - ” He straightens. “It’s okay if you’re not - you know - interested.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “You are - ” She steps and shakes her head before sighing. “Why do you care?” Her voice is softer, quieter, and Colin determines he needs to take a step back.

So he does, physically, but only one - he leans against the counter to her side, so he has a clear view of her face and she can’t hide. Penelope glances at him, probably sees him studying her carefully, before turning off the heat and removing the filling for the burritos. Colin waits until she retrieves tortillas from the fridge before answering.

“I want to cook for you one night.” Penelope freezes. Colin wants to take her hands, force her to _look_ at him, but he stays where he is instead, just looking at her. “I want to make you dinner and curl up with you on the couch while we drink some wine, maybe watch a movie.”

Penelope’s voice is a bit hoarse as she moves again, still not looking at him. “That sounds a lot like a date.”

“Because it is.”

“Colin - “ She finally turns to face him completely, and somehow she’s _right there,_ and god she’s so short, she always has been, but right now they feel perfectly aligned, her lips just inches from his heart. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You.” He tilts his head, considering. “Well, I mean, I would like to get in _you_ , but - ” Even as he says it, Colin winces. “Shit, Pen - you know what I mean - ”

But it’s too late because Penelope has turned away. “Stop joking around and just let it go, Colin.”

“No!” His voice may be louder than he wants, but Colin can feel Penelope slipping through his fingers and he _refuses_ to let that happen. “Penelope, I’m serious. I want to go out with you.”

And maybe the rope tied between their ribs finally snaps, because Penelope whirls around and her face is drawn and her voice is loud. “You need to stop! Stop being annoying about this! It’s just a joke - you can’t _like me_ \- not like _that_ \- it’s been - it’s been _years_ and you - you - ”

“Me?” Colin knows he’s playing with fire, but something not quite anger but mostly frustration is boiling to the surface. “Penelope, I know I’ve been so stupid all these years. But I’m here, now, asking you to _believe me._ ”

“I can’t!”

He throws his hands in the air. “Why not?” He steps closer, inches away, forcing her eyes to lock with his. “Why can’t you believe that I think you’re beautiful and want to go out with you and kiss you and fuck - ” 

“Stop!” She reaches out a hand to stop him, palm on his chest. “You’re being _ridiculous_ \- ” 

_“You’re_ being stubborn - ”

“Both of you are the worst kind of alarm clock.” Eloise’s voice draws their attention from where she stands at the hallway from the bedrooms to the kitchen. She rubs sleep out of her eyes. “Can you two please keep it down?”

Penelope glares up at him. “I _would_ if your brother wasn’t being so - so - _annoying.”_

Colin frowns and sends her a glare of his own. “I’m not _annoying_ , I’m _wooing_ and you’re just being - _difficult - ”_

Eloise rolls her eyes. “Do I need to find somewhere else to be so you two can just bang it out?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Penelope blushing - and half of his brain immediately wonders how she would look blushing while naked, on top of his sheets, just before he - 

Colin nods thoughtfully, seemingly addressing his sister. “You know what? That’s a _great_ idea.” He turns to Penelope, forcing his eyes to capture hers. “Don’t you think that’s a great idea?”

The pink in Penelope’s cheeks seem to turn red instead as her forehead furrows and her lips downturn. “What is _wrong_ with you?” she hisses, but the volume of her voice rises, and Colin’s hands itch to reach out and grab her closer. Luckily for him, her hand rests on his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. If she’s about to push him away or pull him closer, he just doesn’t know.

Eloise snorts. He had forgotten she was there, and it appears so did Penelope much to his amusement. His sister slides past them, grabbing an apple from the counter, before disappearing from the kitchen all together. “No exchanging body fluids in shared spaces!” she yells over her shoulder as she disappears. 

Colin isn’t sure if she’s just going to hide in her room, or to find somewhere else to be all together, and honestly, he really doesn’t give a fuck.

All he cares about is Penelope, breathing heavily, fingers still intertwined with his shirt. 

Colin prides himself on keeping his cool, on being the brother who can keep his calm and temper, on listening first and acting second. But in that moment, with Penelope’s breasts grazing his chest and her gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, Colin lets go.

Colin holds her head in both his hands and kisses her.

It’s soft, quick, just a taste - just his fingers tangled in her hair, his breath mixed with hers, her hands poised on his chest - a suspended moment in time. 

Penelope blinks when he leans back. “Oh.” A small smile crawls up her lips. _“Oh.”_

“Yeah, _oh._ I’ve been so dumb and I’m so sorry, Pen, you deserve so much better. You are beautiful and incredible and I - ”

And then, instead of pushing him away, Penelope pulls his face back against her own, her lips moving against his, and _she kisses him back._

And Colin knows, in that moment, this may be the happiest moment of his life.

He drowns himself in her; she’s a siren and her kisses are her song and he’s drowning, but she’s also breathing life into him, especially when a hand sneaks up his neck, a thumb running down the side of his throat. Penelope is in his arms and he wishes he could strip her down and bury himself inside of her and never let go.

Instead, Penelope pulls back. Her heavy breathing makes him smug, but when she shakes her head, his stomach plummets. “Wait - ” Colin doesn’t loosen his hold on her, but he does lean back enough to study her face. Penelope exhales but doesn’t remove her hands from around his shoulders. “You’re serious? You want to go out with me? And I don’t mean like - just once. Seriously.” She’s biting her lip again. “Like - a girlfriend.”

This time, Colin uses his thumb to free her lip. “Penelope, I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to be your boyfriend.” He rests his forehead against hers, so his words sink into her skin. There can’t be any mistaking his intentions, not now. “I want to date you, go to weddings together, take you home and introduce you to my mother as _my girlfriend.”_

When Penelope smiles, it takes over her entire face. If he thought she glowed before, now she _beams_ , shining and brilliant, and Colin’s heart aches in the best way possible. “Okay,” she says, regrettably stepping out of his arms, but still grinning. “Okay,” she repeats, as if to herself, as if the moment hasn’t sunk in.

Colin watches, amused, as Penelope tries to return to making breakfast, but knocks over the bag of shredded cheese. Luckily, it’s still zipped, so he chuckles as he bends to pick it up.

She’s still smiling when he hands it to her. “God, I’m a mess.”

“Yeah, but you’re my mess.” Penelope rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling and Colin can’t help but be grinning back. He may look like a fool - love-struck, one might even say - but he really does not care. “Are you really going to cook right now?”

The smile flickers and Penelope raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you _don’t_ want to eat?”

Colin removes the bag from her hand and carefully places it back on the counter. “I’m saying that when it comes to picking between food and _you_ …” He steps closer, his hand curling around her jaw. “I’ll pick you every time.”

Just before he moves to kiss her, Penelope giggles. Colin frowns and she shakes her head. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” She giggles again. “You, Colin Bridgerton, picking me over _food.”_ She’s practically laughing now. “No one will believe me!”

Colin feels a little insulted. “I don’t eat _that_ much.” His forehead crinkles. “Do I?”

Penelope laughs, tapping his cheek. “Oh, Colin, that’s funny.” Her hand curls into his hair. “I am incredibly flattered.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kisses his nose. Whispering, she says, “So I know we haven’t actually been on our first date yet, but Eloise said she was leaving and you _have_ been making me wait for _years_ \- ”

Colin backs her up, out of the kitchen, and promptly places her on the dining table. Without hesitation, he kisses the smile off her lips and promises without words to make up for all his wasted time. He’ll make it up to her, kiss by kiss, laugh by laugh, until there’s no question that they’re meant to be together.

And if, some minutes later, he hears Eloise slip out of the apartment, the door clicking close, Colin decides he’ll let her live after all.


End file.
